February can be a tough month: cold, damp, cloudy, raw, devoid of major celebrations and thereby providing very little excuse for not knuckling down and getting some work done. Every month has its crucial place in the glorious annual round, of course, but sometimes it's hard to remember exactly what the point of month number two actually is. It often seems the least fertile and fecund, the least colourful, the least vibrant month of the lot. In short, it can take a bit of getting through.

Still, I like to make the best of any situation and I believe in small rewards as a form of motivation. Which is why February, I believe, demands that we treat ourselves. And, naturally, when I think of treats, I think of puds.

This is the time of year when ice-creams and sorbets – which generally I love — just don't quite do it for me. In this dark hour before the dawn of spring, I want my puds hot and steamy. And, let's be clear, that doesn't mean stodgy. Victorian-esque, suety ballast (for which there is, of course, always a time and a place) are necessarily the order of the day when you need a lift. I don't just want to be cosseted and consoled – I want to be cuddled and kissed. I like a hot pud to be alluring, delicate, a little bit sexy… or a lot.

So while my eggy bready puddings (see today's final recipe) are certainly fairly rich, they're also rather classy — the breadcrumbs leaven the custard delightfully by filling it with tiny air pockets. And talking of tempting textures, the chocolate soufflé you'll find here will melt in your mouth, as light as air – but make sure you don't overcook it: you definitely want it gooey in the middle. Then you'll have yourself a proper chocolate snog.

It's central to the naughty pleasure of these puds that they all conceal a hidden treat of some sort – jam or molten chocolate oozing in the centre, or a syrupy base waiting to be revealed as the pud is turned out. This is one of the keys to really seductive pudding-making, I think: it's no good being all mouth and no trousers, you've got to deliver on the initial promise with an extra layer or two of deliciousness.

But for all their sassiness and sauciness, these are really simple puddings, too. (I'd say, without exception, that all my favourite sweet dishes are uncomplicated.) There are no fussy techniques, hard to source ingredients or complex advance planning. They can, if you'll forgive the expression, be knocked up quite spontaneously. So come on baby, light my fire. Or at least warm my cockles a bit.

Syrup sponge pudding

Steamed sponge puddings – as opposed to suet puddings – have a special texture: buttery and sweet, but also lusciously light. And that sticky, syrupy bottom is, of course, irresistible. Serves four to six.

Generously butter a pudding basin with a capacity of around one litre. Spoon the syrup into the base. Cream together the butter and caster sugar until really light and fluffy. Beat in one egg at a time, adding a spoonful of flour with each, then fold in the remaining flour. You should have a batter with a good dropping consistency. If not, stir in a little milk to loosen it.

Spoon the batter into the basin on top of the syrup (don't worry if it comes up the sides a little – that's the idea).

Tie a double layer of buttered foil or baking parchment, buttered side down, over the basin. Put a trivet, rack or upturned small heatproof plate in a large saucepan and stand the pudding on it. Pour in boiling water to come about halfway up the side of the basin, then cover the pan and bring to a very gentle simmer. Steam for an hour and a half, topping up the boiling water with more from the kettle a couple of times along the way.

Remove the foil and loosen the edges of the pudding with a knife. Place a plate on top then invert the plate and basin, and unmould the pudding. Slice and serve piping hot with chilled double cream.

VariationsJam or marmalade pudding Replace the syrup with three heaped tablespoons of marmalade or your favourite jam. And if you're trying a marmalade pudding, consider adding the grated zest of an orange to the sponge batter, too.

Lemon pudding Replace the syrup with the juice of one lemon combined with 25g soft brown sugar. Add the grated zest and juice of another lemon to the sponge batter.

Hot chocolate soufflé

Colin Campbell for the Guardian

This is a very simple pudding indeed, and it's one based on a Jane Grigson recipe which in turn is based on a Mrs Beeton dish. Break into it as soon as it comes out of the oven to reveal its oozing, melting chocolate core. Make sure the eggs are at room temperature before you start – it really does help when you come to folding them into the chocolate mixture. Serves six.

Put the chocolate in a bowl and put it inside a larger bowl of just-boiled water (or use whichever chocolate-melting method you prefer). Leave it to melt, stirring from time to time, and once it is completely melted and smooth, leave it to cool a little.

Whisk together the egg yolks, sugar and vanilla, then sprinkle the flour over the top and beat in until smooth. Stir in the warm chocolate.

Whisk the egg whites until they hold firm peaks. Stir a couple of tablespoons of the beaten egg white into the chocolate mixture to loosen it, then add the remaining egg whites and fold them in thoroughly but carefully. It may seem at first that the chocolate is too thick to do this, but persevere: it will eventually come together.

Transfer the mixture to the prepared dish and bake for 20 minutes, until risen but still a little wobbly. Serve immediately, with a trickle of cold double cream poured into its molten middle.

Eggy, bready, jammy cocottes

This is a version of a pudding that I usually cook in one large dish. Doing it in individual dishes makes it a bit more coquettish, I think (or should that be cocottish?) and the little well of molten jam in the middle is very alluring. Serves six.

With some of the butter, generously grease six ovenproof ramekins of about 175ml capacity. Combine the milk and cream in a saucepan, bring to just below simmering point, then remove from the heat.

Whisk together the whole eggs, egg yolks and all but a tablespoon of the sugar in a bowl, then gradually whisk the hot milk and cream into the egg mixture to form a custard. Stir about 75g of the breadcrumbs into the custard and leave to soak for half an hour so that the crumbs plump up.

Heat the oven to 180C/350F/gas mark 4. Spoon the mixture into the buttered dishes and drop a teaspoon of jam in the centre of each. Melt the rest of the butter, and combine it with the remaining breadcrumbs and sugar. Scatter this mixture over the top of the puddings.

Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until golden and just set, but with a bit of wobble left in the middle. Leave to settle for about 10 minutes before serving.

Variations

For richer puds, soak 75g raisins in four tablespoons of rum or cider brandy for several hours or overnight, and stir these into the breadcrumb custard before you transfer it to the baking dishes.